Powerhouse
by Cassend
Summary: Driven to madness by the combination of a p-30 overdose and Wesker's constant berating, Jill Valentine finds herself in a flux. Stuck as a prison guard, she decides to prove just how powerful she is. Jill x Executioner, Sexual Content.


**Powerhouse**

_A.B.- I have no idea why the hell I wrote this :D. HOWEVER, I'm sure it'll make SOMEONE happy. AUish, bizarre, kinky, **rated for sexual content**. Including one terrifying psycho Jill Valentine, and her poor prey. Written for the kink meme, prompt being "The Best Kink Pairing Ever". 24-32 oz of coffee later, a laughing fit, ect, this monstrosity was on my screen. I'm fairly sure I got repetitive at some parts, so forgive me for that x-x. Caffine high. **Rated M for a reason.**_

_Jill x Executioner (In that order), enjoy._

How did this start? Why was she peering through a rusty, withered scrap of a door? Oh, it was all too obvious, really. Wesker, with his cruel smile and smooth tone, had told her straightforward he had doubted her value, her very strength as a person. Why? She had disobeyed him, she had let someone he wanted dead to go free, and now she was going to pay the price for such action.

The prison was hot, humid, built on the cusp of a volcano. Plain and simple, it was miserable here, for her to mull over her own thoughts while the physical discomfort was atrocious. Wesker had decided to punish her by sending her on guard duty for the sorry tortured individuals who lurked about. Jill adjusted the mask over her face as sweat rolled over her skin, over her pale lips as her breaths echoed behind the metal mask. As guard, she watched for miscreants, troublemakers amongst the Majini, and she dealt with them, or had the Executioner deal his own little version of justice.

And that was what she was watching at this very minute. The monster they called the "Red" Executioner, stood like an impassive defiance of nature itself, and at his feet, the crumpled and bruised body of a screaming, spitting Majini man, his mouth exploding as the plaga raged. They typically were good little girls and boys around the hulking, bloated form of this monstrous creature, but not today, oh apparently not today. Jill sighed through the beak of the mask as she watched. The Executioner's muscles rippled as it grunted and hoisted the handle of it's battleaxe high above it's head, and without a warning, smashed it down with a heavy smack into the stone floor. The spray of blood colored the grates along the walls as they steamed.

Whatever part of her that was human was sickened to her stomach, but the rest of her was impressed. This creature had more power in him than the entire Majini army. Wesker never spoke ill of the monster, the creation, oh no… He had power, he was merciless, efficient. Her body constricted at the thought… made her squirm at the thought. He was efficient, this merciless brute.

The Executioner turned from the body on the floor, it's powerful arms clinging to the flame-headed axe. It was then that she opened the door and walked in. He turned slightly, but that was all. He began to walk away, the heavy thud of his boots on stone irritating to hear for her. He was going to leave?

"Stop." she snarled, and the word came out like a metallic bark. She was commander, she was in control. She was just as powerful as this hulking giant, standing a good two feet taller than her. The monster halted, it's great bare back tensing slightly at the order. Jill smiled behind the mask, cruelly, vilely. Who was this dark woman under the cowl? Not even God knew. Jill Valentine was dead, and all that was left was P-30 and a beautiful mutated mind.

The creature grunted at her, and turned back to go. She didn't know what broke first, her expression or her psychosis. She cried like a cougar, roaring and rushing after him, leaping to the offensive. He was /not/ stronger than her! NOT more efficient. SHE was the efficient one! The monster, for all it's brute physical strength, was too slow to turn fast enough. Heeled boots stabbed themselves into his fleshy side, smashing into the skin and knocking him off balance. He stumbled, the fall of his feet, heavy to the ground.

Maybe she finally went nuts, finally cracked? The Executioner moaned and his gloved hands tightened around the giant weapon. He roared at the bird that DARE assault him, whether it be his master's little mocking bird or not. Jill jumped back as fast as her legs allowed, as he started swinging. He hit the walls, breaking stone, breaking grate, sending bouts of boiling steam bursting from pipes and screaming into the tiny room.

She was smiling like a maniac as she dodged… again, and again, and again, and again! Ahahhaa! THIS? THIS was more powerful than HER? She dodged, and flipped, and jumped, the cloak ghosting in her wake, the creature positively raging and howling as it tried it's best to hit this miserably fast individual… He swung again, and again. A table was cracked in half, steam filled the room, he made holes in the walls… but he couldn't catch this damn fly!

Jill Valentine jumped as he swung, and her legs went out from under her, driving deep into the wet leather of his mask, punching holes into the flesh underneath. He howled and stumbled back, his grip lost on the handle. The resounding clang was the chime of a bell, and something sparked in her demented mind. She didn't stop, she slammed her knee into his gut, kicked him again, and swung her foot up as he grunted and fell to his knees. The smashing kick that followed sent him to the floor, one nice hard one to the back of the head. She panted, sweat rolled down her back, and she laughed, sickly.

"You will not disobey your /superior/"

She hissed it with one bitter, black tone. Behind the red eyes of her mask, her humanity was horrified, her monster was purring. It was the monster that spoke, the monster that looked around as Majini peered in to see the cause of the explosive noises. The Executioner growled and pressed it's hands against the floor, she rose her leg again and kicked him square in the back with a thud.

"Chain him." she hissed, her words the words of a cobra, a mamba. The majini looked at her, the mistress whose eyes shone red as theirs, who had fallen the merciless guard, They dared not disobey, as she turned her head towards them, the cruel beak of one so embodying plague threatening them. This was power, she had power, she was not powerless, she was powerful.

The Majini grabbed the shackles lying about, scrambling. The mistress wouldn't wait, so they obeyed like dogs, despite the grumbles of the stunned giant under her boot. It took some effort, but they rolled him onto the metal interrogation table with around seven people, his body making a wet slapping noise as they locked the shackles on. No doubt he could break free of such things, she reasoned.

"More." she growled, and her growl was accompanied by a smirk, a bitter, cruel smile. Majini scrambled again. They brought everything. Everything in the damn facility. Chains, ropes, bloodied medical bandages, belts. Perhaps they hated him, or perhaps they feared her more. She didn't know, she didn't care. She watched them tie his hands so firmly behind the table, chain them to the wall, solidify his ankles to the sides, splay him like a prized kill. She smiled like a maniac."Get out." she growled, and they /obeyed/. It rushed through her sweaty skin, like a drug. The power, the control she was denied around HIM. They listened… they obeyed here. She was POWER. This feeling…

The Executioner groaned behind his mask, jerked against his restraints… and jerked harder. Oh the bitch of irony! Jill chuckled, a disturbing sound, a seductive sound. "What? Can't you get out?" she hissed. She walked closer, admired the way his muscles moved under his battered skin like liquid, like liquid strength. She leaned to his head, her mask wet with condensation, the eyes foggy. She assumed his ears must be under the leather of his mask, somewhere… "Can't you get out?"

It was a purr from her monster, her cruel, mad, monster. She chuckled again, she pressed her damp lips against the leather, she wanted him to HEAR it. "You are nothing compared to me. I have complete control, I decide if you live or die, I am your master- no…" she paused, her voice dropping octaves, growling, burning those last words. "I am your mistress."

Her monster shuddered, shivered in delight, screamed for more, more delicious words… More power, more control. The Executioner grumbled, made a sound like a motorcycle, a muffled growl. He definitely heard that, whether or not he comprehended it was completely objective. She didn't fucking care. She had him under her thumb, under her rank… He was nothing!He grunted, he pulled against the straps, the bonds, his arms strained, muscles bulging in effort, sweat rolling down his enormous, infected body. His parasite, a tumor on his back, pulsated in time with a heartbeat, and how apt for it to do so. Heartless, mindless animals… The plaga was gracious to him, oh but she was better! She knew it! Wesker- HAH! He would feast upon his words… She had taken this giant down- though she had not killed him.

Her mind paused at the thought, she stood, and her fingers clenched slightly. Unwavering wasn't her top quality. She hesitated, she paused… NO! Jill snarled to herself, her lips curling back into a possessed sneer. She pulled herself atop his bloated, muscled body, the dampness on the skin of her suit rubbing against his red chest. He growled, he strained harder, she could feel his muscles, his flesh rippling under her, and she reached in her cowl, to her leg for her gun. Two automatic guns on her thigh holsters, now one kissing the metal ring in the center of his mask, like kissing a crosshair aimed right for the mouth. She smiled, diseased, she licked her lips, her eyes were wide, her finger craved that snap of the trigger, the spray that would follow the bullet.

Her monster screamed for her to do it, cried, howled. The Executioner stiffened, his shoulders pulsed, he pulled and snarled at her, and his body rippled under her. God… this was power! The power to choose life or death for another, the power to kill them, the power to do/anything/. Was this what Wesker felt over her, this inexplicably drug-like control? He, of course, used her, abused her. He began the madness, the sickness. He used her, broke her body, broke her /in/. Jill pressed the mouth of the gun harder into that metal ring, her breathing became clipped with the anxiety!

"So, how does it feel? To be below someone?" she cried, she screeched it. Wesker had said the same to her… in his horrifyingly dark hiss. She remembered those words as he ripped her leggings off, tore through her panties, slammed into her over the banister of his laboratory. He broke her, made her bleed, fucked her mercilessly, laughed… And this was the power he must have felt, that power to /control/. She hesitated as his body rippled under her, and it was then that she put the gun to her side. Her face turned away from him, The brute under her paused for the briefest of moments, and flexed again. He had to free himself now!She pulled the gun back, and smashed it across the leather of his mask. "STOP. I order you to STOP." she barked. She wanted that control, that POWER! She was superior to /any/. She threw the gun without a second thought, and she looked down, to the body of her giant, lumbering prey. Oh he was strong. Very damn strong, but she was stronger. He was under her, he was moving, flexing, pulling against her restraints. His body was like a radiator under her, heat sweltering, pulsing through his flesh. Her monster screamed, pined, yowled like a cat in heat.

Jill gripped the beak of the mask and threw it off, and it was then that the Executioner halted for many seconds… to look upon the face of a madwoman. She looked like something that should not belong in such a place. A face that wore the flush of exertion, lips that were wet with sweat and light bangs that stuck to her face. He snarled at her, and she snarled back with as much venom as could be possible.

"I'll give you a choice." she hissed, and her blue eyes gleamed as they widened, the orange light of the room gleaning them a more fitting color. Wet gloves glided over his sweaty skin, the smell of his flesh pungent at such close range. He may have been infected, but he was still a man, smelled like a man, had basic functions a man would have. "You can answer to me, obey me. Or die."

Her mouth was twisted in an infernal smile. She was one of them, perhaps crueler, perhaps more deadly. Sweat rolled off her brow, it dripped over her cheeks and onto his chest. He was a monster, he could do naught but grumble, snarl, oh but he definitely understood. Her thighs tightened around his massive chest, the material of her cowl slid down his legs, spilled like a damp blanket over him. He didn't move for a good amount of time, could he be thinking? Did he have that capacity? Did she care?

No. Jill shifted her hips, she traced the lines of vicious stitching on his chest, and she slid down. The power was intoxicating, her words had hypnotized the creature, and now he was /her/ puppet. She smiled, her skin and eyes glowed with something more sinister than the light. She slid down his body an inch at a time, he growled with what she supposed was frustration, he pulled on his restraints again.

"Stop." she muttered, and she lowered her head to that film of sweat on his flesh, and kissed his bloated naval. He /obeyed/. Her wet lips didn't stop there, either. She smirked as he tensed under her. Perhaps the monsters had some feeling in them, even the guardian himself? She chuckled, she extended her pale pink tongue, and licked a line up his chest. She tasted sweat and blood and body, but wasn't that the most beautiful taste when a grunt rumbled through his ribs at that? She did it again, and he tensed further, his muscles were bulging under her, his body rippled with just her tongue. She felt the heat between her legs, what a telltale sign. She felt invincible, powerful… the control!

Oh god the control… Jill growled at the brute, the huge, monstrous brute, and her hands trailed up her own body through her cloak. The wet skin under her battle suit felt like it was on fire, it stuck where she touched it. Jill pinched the zipper and pulled it down, and the fabric wilted from her body. Was he actually able to see her? She didn't know. Her monster didn't care, her human had long died an agonizing death. Jill pulled it further down, the sound of the metal teeth parting making her pulse raise. The tight suit pooled as it fell from her shoulders, slick with sweat, her pale body dripping.

He wasn't moving now as she stripped it down. She pulled an arm free with care, as if showing off, and that hand traced the front of her body, over the jewel embedded between her breasts. It was glowing, red, as red as the eyes of her mask, of the majini. That jewel made her a monster, that jewel was her monster. Jill pulled the other arm free from her second skin, and the thing fell away from her body. Like a boomslang shedding it's skin to grow more poisonous. She was showing off, atop this monster. Wesker had increased the output of the drug by tenfold, and birthed something dark in his own image. The Executioner, for the depth of his infection, was the more human of the two now.

"Do you like what you see? Do you /want/ what you see?" She growled. Of course he did. She could feel it as he was seizing up under her. Jill watched him, and chuckled, leaning forward. Her breasts touched his lower chest, sweat ridden chest, and she swore she could feel him strain at that. The feeling of her full, supple breasts, her pale nipples, running over his tortured skin… They kissed the line of stitches, they teased. Did he want to touch her or kill her? She didn't care. She growled harshly and slithered down his body, over his bound legs that were obstructed by… what was this? An apron? A kilt made of flimsy leather? She laughed to herself. A bulge was forming there. A lovely bulge. This was power, temptation at it's finest.

"Oh you want what you see. Pity you can hardly gurgle… I would have loved you to beg me." she purred. Her fingers ran to the belt of the thing, she took her time undoing it, and the brute rumbled. He was tense, but wasn't pulling. She pulled the fabric off him, and she chuckled at what she saw. Oh, his axe wasn't for compensation. He was damn huge, springing to attention, towering to the ceiling. Jill looked at the massive cock, and she cackled all the while. "Amazing, isn't it? How something so big can't fight me… Ohhh…"

She wrapped a sweaty palm around the purple, throbbing cock, and she watched as his muscles strained again. He grunted, and pulled against the bonds, but that was fine. Let him suffer. She squeezed, he was weeping now, imagine it! What were the odds, something infected could still perform? Her hand slid up his wet, slick cock, and she grinned. Her fingers barely encompassed him successfully, his mutated size was something to cringe at. Her monster pined, raked against the walls of her body for that feeling. To break something so enormous…. So powerful!

"You /love/ this, don't you." she crooned, and she dug her thumbnail into his tip, feeling the juices, smelling his musk in the steam. The Executioner rumbled as if to respond, and his biceps bulged, sweat rolled down them, she watched it, she licked her salty lips. She felt hot, craving, aroused by this. If her humanity existed any longer, she would have vomited at her behavior, but Jill Valentine was dead. All that was left was the jewel and the monster.

She pumped him once more, traced the lining of his damp sac, feeling the flesh, rubbing it, noting the way his muscles rippled, his bloated belly seemed to jolt at her hand. This was power.

She stood on the table, and the rest of the suit fell off. Sweat poured from her thighs as they were freed into the lips of the steam. She didn't wear anything under the suit, and that was all too convenient. The cowl slipped down along her muscled back, but she made no motion to shrug it off. Her legs parted, she put her hands on her lips, and her eyes were ferocious as she stood there, suit around her ankles and over his legs, and the most powerful, naked monstrosity alive.

He rumbled, growled, pulled again and again, his back pulling away, only to slam down again. She smirked, chuckled, laughed a little, and bent down, her fingers sinking into her own wet sex, stretching herself, pumping into herself as she balanced on her knees, hovering over his legs. He tried to pull against the bonds, tried to set his legs free, his hips raising but an inch and slamming back down, his massive cock bobbing as he did. It only fueled the fire. She sighed and pressed her palm into the poor creature's sensitive sex. It was so purple and pained, wanting to fuck the mad, beautiful monster that had pinned him down.

It was so amusing, so hysterical to think. She sighed and rubbed herself against him, slipped his head into her moist slit, and she growled. He tensed, she swore he was going to break the bonds, as she pushed him in, past her thick muscle, ignoring the resounding pain of being impaled with something so abnormally huge. Jill grunted, groaned as he stretched her limits and her innards. She ripped internally, and she didn't care. Tinted fluids wept down his cock to his skin, a metallic mix of blood and sex. She didn't care. There were worse pains imaginable than being stabbed like this.

There was the feeling of something throbbing so tight and wet and under your control, that she couldn't deny was amazing. It felt like she could fly, this penetration, this dick between her legs. She wasn't stopping until she felt him at the core. Her internal monster moaned, or was that her? Her lips parted, her legs spread, her back arched and rippled. He roared under her, positively roared, every movement of his muscles sending his hips up that tiny inch, and back down. It was enough to rock her picturesque hissed, her hands went to grab something, though only the wall was in reach. She braced herself, her wet legs shook with the effort it took to contain something like this. Her monster drove her to ignore the pain. Jill lifted herself up, and slammed back down, riding him, controlling him, every thrust producing an audible squelch, fluids, sweat, collecting in her, dripping down her. The pain was gone, replaced by the powerful, sensational tingle of sex. Her body was shaking, but she kept bobbing, riding him, her breasts moving with her. His grunts, groans, they were louder, his pulling more ferocious than before. He wasn't trying to free himself anymore, moreso sink into her horribly tight body, her muscular, lithe form that fell over him like a succubus.

He couldn't get out, she held him down, she controlled him. Jill rode him harder, faster. He bucked uselessly under her, trying, trying to break and split her more. She groaned, her knees dug into his hips, the muscles of her thighs taut against his body, hanging on. She could kill with those thighs, but she was using that strength to slam him into her body, rip her open, squeeze every last inch of him…

He came /first/. He was the weaker one. He roared as she slid down his thick cock. He exploded into her, filling her up, cum dripping down her thighs, onto him, his flesh rippling like waves and muscles straining impossibly. The rush was too much, she climaxed with a howl of victory, laughing as her body sprung loose, her insides quivered around him, exploded around him with a vulgar noise. The sweat rolled down her body, over her breasts, and her eyes were dizzy with delight as she looked down at him.

"…I am your mistress." she hissed.

He hadn't foreseen something so obscure as this. All he wished to do was grab the poor Jill's hide and take it back. That was all. And then Majini began attacking him, and he knew something was amiss. They never DARED cross him. Wesker adjusted his shades, walking to the center of the prison with a deep frown. Before him, his Jill Valentine, Bird mask and nothing else, and beside her, the two gatekeepers, from their posture, hostile. He set his jaw as they rushed him.

With a few dangerous punches, they were dead. He walked over to his puppet, and she laughed… He drew back his hand and smacked her hard enough to rip that fetid mask from her body.

"What a disobedient little bitch you are, Valentine."

He growled… "Managing to overthrow a prison all yourself?"

She could tell by the tone, he was impressed with her power. Her manic eyes looked up at her master, her controller, the dilated pupil of her eye catching his deep frown. His gloved fingers curled around her jaw, pulling her up, inspecting her.

"It seems as though I will have to reconsider just how much of this drug you can handle, Valentine." he hissed.


End file.
